


Grounded

by BiblioPan



Series: Bea-Attitudes [2]
Category: Red White & Royal Blue - Casey McQuiston
Genre: Alternate Universe - Magical Realism, Banter, Coffee Shops, Friendship, Gender-Neutral Pronouns, Human/Non-Human Relationship, Humor, Other, Slow Burn, original character - non-binary
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-12-14
Updated: 2020-12-14
Packaged: 2021-03-11 02:47:19
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,179
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28077951
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/BiblioPan/pseuds/BiblioPan
Summary: All Bea wants is a quiet, fall, NYC coffee shop moment. What happens when a familiar (and not all-together human) interloper drops by?(Continuation of my Flufftober story "Girls with Guitars," though reading that one is not necessary to understand this one.)Comments and kudos will be given pets, snuggled, and fawned over for as long as winter blues requires. Thanks for reading!
Relationships: Beatrice Fox-Mountchristen-Windsor/Original Character
Series: Bea-Attitudes [2]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1967677
Comments: 10
Kudos: 6





	Grounded

_ Squelch.  _ Bea couldn’t lie to herself or the low morning sun sneaking in through the blinds any longer. The sounds coming from down the hall included begging and moaning and she needed to evacuate the premises. Immediately.

She tugged on the matching  [ boyshorts  ](https://tomboyx.com/products/boy-shorts-rainbow-pride-stripes) and  [ bralette ](https://tomboyx.com/products/ruched-bralette-rainbow-pride-stripes) ,  [ hoodie ](https://tomboyx.com/products/v2-french-terry-pullover-hoodie-black-with-rainbow-stripe) ,  [ yoga pants ](https://www.girlfriend.com/collections/leggings/products/tart-compressive-high-rise-legging) , and extra-soft [ socks  ](https://tomboyx.com/products/sock-star) she kept by the bed in case of this particular emergency. She brushed her teeth, scrubbed her face, slapped on moisturizer, and gave a final once over before grabbing her keys and phone and tearing for the front door. She hit send on a favor wrapped in a text message to her favorite security guard, Jasmin, and crossed her fingers that it worked. 

She locked the door behind her and slunk down the stairs with her hoodie pulled up and sunglasses on tight, trusting Jasmin to follow her unobtrusively from a distance. “Call NYC Caffeine Fix,” she murmured into her phone and turned the corner on Floor 3. 

“Grounded, this is Neal.”

“This is Q. Number seven with full-fat oat milk, just shy of scalding. Text when I’m close. Please, Neal, it’s urgent.” Bea tucked herself behind a ficus in the lobby and scanned the room for pesky interested parties.

A high pitched giggle, quickly covered by a cough, came through the speaker. “Q, I wasn’t expecting you today. Yeah, absolutely. On it. See—”

The phone darkened and Bea slipped it into her hoodie before exiting the brownstone’s side door (knowing her security would quell any alarms and appreciate her stealth). She shivered as the fall breeze tousled her chestnut waves and blew into her hood and across the tips of her new undercut. Henry’s unexpected bravery surrounding his relationship with Alex had reignited her queer punk tendencies and, God, she was embarrassed at how pinning up her hair at their place to show it off had made her weak yet proud. 

Earbuds in place, Bea strolled towards the coffee shop and started the  [ Lullablaze ](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=G7WXLI3wAV8&t=27s) EP. Antonioni wouldn’t be everyone’s cup of musical tea but Bea adored their dreamy chords and haunting lyrics. Her mind wandered to her time at Vinegar Hill Studios and to that damn pianist with the quick mouth and teal ear. She bit her lip to catch the smile threatening to escape, hummed along, and crossed the street. 

Bea welcomed the feel of the fall air, awaking her senses and centering her in this stolen moment of quiet. She smiled to herself and internally forgave the horny relatives who drove her from the cozy wonderland of blankets and pajamas. She texted Neal her approximate arrival time and tucked her hands back into the cozy pocket. The newest member of the security team (a recommendation from Alex whom he described as the ‘most badass Texas woman you pray you never meet’) winked from a bench half a block away as Bea entered Grounded with feigned nonchalance. 

Neal locked eyes with her before forcing his gaze to his current order, a small smile sneaking out in spite of his efforts. He set a ‘Guitar Players are Picky’ mug on the counter’s end and gave her a slight nod before returning to the steamer. 

Bea mouthed, “Thank you, love,” as she scooped up the mug and made her way to the back patio. It was nearly deserted, given the hour and cool temperature. She sighed in gratitude and dropped onto the floral glider cushion. She pushed the glider with one foot while tucking the other under her thigh, determined to enjoy this time to herself. 

“Any room on that glider for a friendly acquaintance?” 

Bea nearly dropped the mug and yelped “Holy shit!” She clutched her chest and worked to slow her breathing enough to berate the interloper, but the “Fuck off” stuck in her mouth. “North?”

The towering figure dipped forward in an elegant bow and rose with a smirk. “May I?”

Bea nodded and scooted over, hoping to rediscover her Rock Star Cool. They swung in silence until Bea couldn’t contain her curiosity any longer. “I thought you lived far away? Weren’t you brought in from some other place by the band or the studio or something?”

“Ah, yes, good memory. I’m in town to record at Vinegar Hill again.” North turned to her, face pinched and eyebrows drawn together, voice low. “Shall I address you by station, name, or something else entirely amongst the unwashed masses?”

“Ah, yes, quite. At this locale, I go by “Q.” As in, queries on my person get quickly quelched.” Bea sipped her cooling beverage and peered over the mug to see if that landed as well as she’d hoped. 

The giggle and nod from North gave Bea a flutter of butterflies. The stomach swoops intensified as North shifted to face her and leaned in. “Do quirky queers quell your queries?” A heather-gray headwrap adorned North’s head and those eyes that refused classification peered deeply into Bea’s: forest leaves, layered and intertwined; the jade bottle of her Nan’s favorite perfume, secret, expensive, heavy with luxury. 

North arched a coppery eyebrow and extended an arm behind Bea. The sleeve of their fluffy mottled turtleneck sweater draped off the back of the glider, the pattern slightly off and the sweater obviously homemade.  [ Gloved  ](https://www.sakkasstore.com/products/glove-ycgl172) fingers reached towards the sweater’s hem and a fingertip grazed Bea’s shoulder.

_ Cinnamon. Apples and thick, sweetened dough. Dank leaves and peat. _

Bea’s pupils rounded and her hand flew to her mouth as an unbidden moan escaped. Would her hoodie hide the telltale flush spreading across her cheeks? Filled with a daring she didn’t know she possessed, Bea reclined into the seat back and snuggled up to North’s open palm. She ventured a peek in North’s direction as a satin curtain of the softest silence rushed through her senses.

Bea fell inward, cocooned in tranquility, full of unwavering trust and loathe to question the sanity of this feeling. She couldn’t say whether the moment lasted seconds or hours, only that she would give her Amex Black Card to reach that state again.

A blaring car horn tossed Bea back to the present. 

“Quaint quiet to quash queasiness, my dearest Q.” The encased finger tickled Bea’s neck and she stretched to chase the sensation, whining at the loss. North rose, shaking out their sweater and reaching into a back pocket. 

A black card edged with silver swirls appeared in front of Bea. “If you find yourself near Asheville, gimme a call. Well, text preferred.”

Bea plucked the card from North’s outstretched fingers. “I, uh, thanks, North. I’ll do that,” she stuttered. "How long are you in town?” Fearing she’d misspoken from the responding silence, she looked up to find herself alone. “Well, talking to oneself is never embarrassing, is it?”

She texted Henry for his and Alex’s pastry requests (they’d have her on the street by nightfall if she returned empty-handed) and collected the tattered remains of her dignity. Scrolling through her feed, a  _ New York Times _ article caught her eye: “ [ NC City Approves Reparations for Black Residents ](https://www.nytimes.com/2020/07/16/us/reparations-asheville-nc.html) .” Bea forwarded it to Alex along with an innocent: “Road trip?”

**Author's Note:**

> Hello my dear readers! I have been promising this one for a minute and am *thrilled* to share it with you. 
> 
> Quick Note about the "Q" words - The internet and my dear beta (the talented and vivacious EggplantSalad) wished for me to change "quelch" to "quash." They mean essentially the same thing and "quelch" is only really in ancient texts (https://grammarist.com/usage/squelch-quelch). At some point, however, I came across this word and Y'ALL, I fell in LOVE. I just love, love, love that word and am a pioneer in everything, always. So, it stays and since millions of people understood Moira Rose, I feel like y'all can give me this one.
> 
> If you enjoyed this, know that I am already working on Bea-Attitudes #3 (Longer! Outside of NYC! E rated!) so fret not! Love you all!


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